


Void Heart

by Void_And_Soul



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: And a poor choice in words with "living" somewhere in this, Just a little Ghost being kinda bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 20:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Void_And_Soul/pseuds/Void_And_Soul
Summary: The Ghost of Hallownest ponders what his creator asked of his kind and is a bit bitterly biased.





	Void Heart

_Back once, back twice, forward, slice-_

How many times had the little “Knight” repeated this dance? So many creatures of Hallownest required such a simple song to sing them back to rest… It really couldn’t be helped though. With no mind left ot truly think, what could be expected of them? With “light” tainting all they were and would be, could these creatures really do much?... Perhaps more than what they do.

“ _No mind to think._ ”

After all, if you had listened to the Pale King and his plans before he so suddenly vanished, his vessels were not to think. Yet, they were expected to climb out of the Abyss without any ability to think. How did he expect such a thing? Surely a creature that couldn’t think wouldn’t think to go up or figure out how to climb and soar through such a death trap. Yet many had tried. Only one succeeded the way the King wished for them to… Not that it did the poor creature any good.

After all, it’s what called them home. The “pure” Vessel… A poor creature that managed to do the daunting task asked of it, kept up it’s puppet like facade to please it’s creator, for some sort of affection, escape from the cold world that it’s home became… Only to be thrown to a creature that even it’s creator couldn’t beat, locked away to suffer and slowly break as the mad light tries to escape it’s prison… Such sorrow, such sufferings, it called them home.

“ _No voice to cry suffering._ ”

Maybe “call” wasn’t quite right. They had no voice to call out. No voice to cry. Nothing to express happiness, pain, grief, gratitude, not even just to make friendly conversation. Always relying on whoever they’re with to carry the conversation, to know what they want to convey. To know what is truly happening and to learn to read a voiceless, expressionless language. What a task it must be…

But yet the bugs of Hallownest always seemed to know. Perhaps they didn’t always know exactly what was felt by the little Ghost, but they seemed to understand that he was eager to listen, that he wanted to be near them, that perhaps their information might save their strange, silent friend. That the small gestures such as a flower delivered, a burst of silence with the Ghost sitting close by, the unwavering attention, was a sign of gratitude, of companionship. And is it not true that they were given voices one way or another? That they could receive the gift to speak if they merely refined it? The Hollow Knight, locked away, its roar as it began to weaken beckoned the only other living vessel home. The Broken Vessel, the Lost Kin, did it not let out a fierce roar for its size as it was taken over, showing there was still fight in it yet? Does he not let out a shriek of pain, of grief, of rage of his own and the echoes of the creatures he has yet to avenge? Is such pain, such cries of his kin and of the creatures in Hallownest not what makes his spells so powerful? Is it not what drives him forward?

“ _No will to break._ ”

He had a will. It’s what brought him this far. Without will, he wouldn’t have fought. No will to live, no will to protect, no will to save, no will to avenge, no will to end such sorrow. How could a creature not have will but still fight? Still escape that pit where their creator left them? Should that not have told him that his “pure” Vessel was flawed from the start? That any creature that attempted his challenge was to be discarded? His plan was never going to work. Creatures naturally have life, a will, a mind. Maybe the Pale King could take their voice, but he couldn’t take away the very nature of life from them. It was his price, his error for arrogantly overlooking such basic facts. It’s only a shame his arrogance in everything he did harmed so many…

This plague, the suffering of the people, of the Hollow Knight, of the countless shades below, of the zombified creatures only given relief through his own nail, it traced back to two arrogant, cruel gods. One that vainly wished for complete servitude, for worship and for its followers to be nearly mindless puppets except for those created in its likeness that would truly worship her… And one that sought to be the hero, gave minds to the puppets of the first god and tried to seal her away. Of course it backfired, of course she retaliated, he would do the same, no doubt in the Ghost’s mind. Of course the people suffered as the two gods could do little to each other, of course it was a war over who could create the better weapon, the better seal on creature’s minds. Of course when it went wrong, when he failed, he merely abandoned the mortal creatures to their sufferings as to not face the shame of knowing his arrogance, his cruelty, how wrong he was.

Of course there had to be someone there for those who have suffered to live, to try to escape such a hellish reality. For those who no longer call for a god to save them but would be overjoyed to see the day when such a curse would leave. For the few who lived during the fall and just wish peace. For those who had to be sacrificed. For his kin that fell from a cruel creator, for his kin still suffering locked away in the temple… If only he could find the information he seeks sooner… It would be cruel to kill the Hollow Knight after all he suffered. To give them a way to see what good their sacrifice did, to spare them more pain, to give them a chance to properly live without the mantra of what they should be, what their creator wanting them to be weighing them down. A chance for happiness they haven’t known.

A stop at a bench to collect thoughts, to rest and heal. He was everything his creator despised, everything he would see fall and die in their home, everything he tried to lock away and everything he was sure would fail… Yet here he was. Alive and doing his creator’s job for them. Slowly cutting away this plague from Hallownest. For the good of those here. Always for the people, never himself. Always for someone else... They could agree with one ideal their creator had, however, it only extends to their personal cost. Never like his creator, other’s shouldn’t need to suffer more than needed for his job.

He was nothing like his creator and it seemed to be for the best that he was nothing like them, that he strived to be what they hated of his kind and to be better than what they were. He was Void, and that was it. He was what Void truly was and what it could be. As was Hollow Knight and the Broken Vessel that reached out to him, the Lost Kin that bowed in gratitude when it’s spirit was finally freed. They were living creatures like any other and they acted like it despite the expectations of their creator. The Void Heart told him as much. It was part of him, so if he had a will, the Void unified under it, echoing his will as its own, his thoughts, and prayers as its own desire, the end it wishes to seek, the peace it would bring. The Void was never what the Pale King thought of it. It’s why She feared it after all. Why it was her “ancient enemy”. It had will, it had mind, it was not truly “lifeless”, it was merely emptiness. Soul is life, Void is death, they work together, as they were always meant to, and both have will, have missions to do and a nature to express. Why should creatures created of these two things be any less?

For now though, such ponderings are useless. It lengthened the suffering of the kingdom. He was doing that enough with his personal quest despite how selfishly it may be viewed from an outsider. Cloak drawn around them again, nail ready to strike and charms flashing off of misty lighting, the Ghost of Hallownest treks on. Back to the archives to see if perhaps there may be anything hinting at a way to spare his fellow vessel. With memories of Hallownest’s history, of it’s ruler, of the god that seeks to undo and destroy what is no longer hers, perhaps a solution to all of this can be found with just a bit more time and information… Though, he can’t deny his kin’s call much longer. It would be a cruel thing to do to them. By the next call, armed with the information needed or not, the venture towards the end must begin. For their sake.

“ _No cost too great._ ”


End file.
